The Scars You Left Behind
by misskylawho
Summary: "I'm in love with all the wrong reasons," I take his hand, "And maybe that's why I fell for you." Paul Lahote, overcoming things much greater than the pack; gaining an imprint.
1. Chapter 1

**ONE**

I wasn't a morning person- at all.

I loved my bed, and the mere thought of having to leave my comforter brought a tight pain in my chest. Mom had left for work at six, and like any morning before she left to open up the shop, she'd come into my room and unlatch my window, letting in an icy draft. This, according to Mom, was her not-so-secret method of being sure I would wake up, and go to school.

It was cruel.

Because realistically, I knew she did it just to piss me off, plus making me catch a cold. Miss Camryn Kota, _Academy Award Winner_ for the best academic attendance of the whole student body of La Push Reservation High School, would _never_ miss a day off school. Even when I dislocated my knee last summer, I walked back in to English Lit the very next day with my crutches.

Despite my longing for sleep, I clambered out, having a quick shower before putting on some ripped skinny jeans and a grey sweater. Breakfast consisted of cornflakes and a re-run episode of _Baby Daddy_ before I towed on my converse, grabbed my backpack and camera, making my way to school.

* * *

The bus drive to school was short, cutting across the sharp highways which were secluded between the forests. It was beautiful really. I take the bus to school in the morning, but I would always walk home, taking a detour through the woods. It was a sedative scenery, the only sounds coming from the cool breeze and hidden wildlife. The only giveaway of civilization was the distant hum of passing vehicles on the freeway.

I had resided in La Push my whole 16 years. Dahlia Kota, my Mother, is Quileute herself, and had lived on the reservation her whole life also. She had met my anonymous Father while working at the _Bar and Grill_ in Forks, producing me 6 months into their relationship. My Dad had been from Forks, and had just finished his Senior Year, about to attend NYU.

My Mom said it was love-at-first-sight. . .

Until he left town and declared he wanted nothing to do with his unborn child.

Consequently, my Father had left my Mom with a broken heart and a baby due within 7 months' time.

Mom had never lied to me or 'sugar coat' anything. She had told me, since the tender age of 4 when I asked for the very first time, where my Daddy was. She had not seen him since he fled town nearly 5 years before, and the only information she had of his whereabouts was from when she overheard customers talking at the _Bar and Grill_ not long after my birth. Apparently, he was still attending NYU and was engaged, but not once had he tried to make contact.

* * *

Now, as I stepped off the bus and made my way to tutor, I felt a hand grab hold of my forearm.

"Camy!" My best friend, Erica, hung onto me like a flea, smiling broadly.

"Hey, you," I grinned back at her, looping are arms together as we walked to tutor.

Erica Nokitos had been my best friend since she punched my bully in the face back in 2nd Grade, and ever since we have been inseparable. We seemed to be very compatible- her being the poised, outgoing, extrovert and me being the inaudible, wary introvert.

She spoke for me when I couldn't.

"So, next Saturday," Erica began, giving a cheeky smile. I ogled at her suspiciously, "There's this bonfire, at First Beach. I was speaking to- oh, you remember Embry? Embry Call? So he told me that they're arranging a party at First Beach. They'll be a bonfire, few booze-"

I stopped walking and un-linked our arms, spinning around to face her.

"I'm not going-" I start.

"Hold on, Missy," Erica puts her hands on her hips, pursing her mouth attempting to look stern. "As soon as I mentioned drinks, I knew you would say no. So I'm willing to compromise because I love you." She supposed, a sweet grin pulling her lips apart. So manipulative.

I squint at her cautiously, "What are you suggesting?" I feign amusement.

"Well, I was thinking, if I promise we only go for a couple of hours, 4 tops, and that I won't drink, will you go with me?" She queries, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear.

"And besides," Erica continues, "you could bring your camera! You could get some awesome shots, with the cliffs and all. What do you say?" Wickedly, she pouts her full lips, widening her dusky eyes for effect.

 _Oh, for goodness sake._

"Fine." I sigh, earning me a squeal and a hug which nearly knocks me over into the lockers.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Erica cries, skipping all the way to tutor.

* * *

Third period was the highlight of my day- English Lit was one of my preferred subjects aside from Art. And though we were learning Shakespeare, and analyzing one of my favorite plays, it wasn't the only purpose the lesson always made my blood pressure sky-rocket and pulse accelerate.

Paul Clearwater.

He had always been a fantasy of mine. Well, a _distant_ fantasy.

We had never conversed with one another, apart from my dreams where I had the confidence to do so. Paul and the other 'La Push crew', as me and Erica so artfully labelled them, were superior to everybody. And not just in the surroundings of High School, but La Push and even Forks in general. They were at the top of the hierarchy of aiders, protectors and absolute attractiveness.

It was pitiful really.

I don't even think Paul knew my name, which was saying something considering the minuscule populace of residents in the Reservation- everybody knew everybody.

Paul had been in my English Lit class since the beginning of Junior Year, where he sat opposite me in the back row, where I gawked at him for the whole hour.

However, when 11.00 came around this morning, Paul wasn't in his customary chair.

Disappointment was an understatement.

Ironically, even though I enjoyed English Lit, I couldn't seem to concentrate without Paul being there, which didn't make any sought of logic as when Paul _was_ there, I never seemed to focus on my work anyhow.

I felt distressed. This period was my one and only lesson where I could appreciate Paul's beauty at a close distance.

 _God, I needed help._

And fast. This petty crush was going to be my downfall.

* * *

When the final bell rang for the end of the school day, I sighed with relief. Ever since third period, I lacked energy and was barked at by Mr. Cirling twice in Calculus because of my dreamy state. It was eerie how just because I hadn't laid eyes on Paul this morning, I couldn't seem to function properly. Although, his absence got me thinking: Paul rarely had time off school. Like me, he had excellent attendance, and he seemed perfectly fine when I saw him the week before. Sue Clearwater had raised him well.

With that thought in mind, I ambled past the school bus stops where students packed on in line. A clearing just on the opposite side of the street, lead a direct path into the woods, the trail taking me almost under an hour to get home. Erica had once came with me down this route before, the whole way moaning about how she was going to suffer from blisters the next day.

That was the first and only time she ever walked with me again.

Strolling deeper into the clearing, I clutched my camera out of my bag and slung the strap around my neck.

Photography had always been a passion of mine. When I was younger, Mom would buy me disposable cameras and I would go with her to her florist shop and take pictures of the flower adornments.

Walking along, I took shots here and there, stopping once and a while, pointing my _Canon_ to the sky where tree branches would get caught within the sun rays. It was little sights like these which made a perfect shot, what some people seemed to miss.

Not 40 minutes later, I ended up at another clearing which lead to a gravel lane passing my house, a slight drizzle starting to fall.

I make a run for it before I soak through, but didn't take two steps until my face planted with the grass my knee scraping on the bark under my legs.

"Shit," I mumble curses to myself as I lug myself up and pick up my bag.

 _Grrrr._

I swing violently to my left and shiver not from the cold, but from the noise coming from the swath of ferns, huddled in the clearing.

"What. The. Hell." I whisper, taking tentative steps back.

That noise was anything but the wind. It was so feral, animalistic. And only meters away from me.

Bears weren't rare for the surrounding Forks reservation, but they would never come close to the more public parts of the forests where more people ventured . . .

 _Grrrr._

I don't look behind me as I pelt towards my street. Erica wouldn't have to kill me herself, if I was already mulled by a bear before the party.

* * *

 ** _Follow and Review, it means the world, PM for any questions :)_**


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N : Thank you so much to those few who have reviewed already; your feedback makes me so happy. One of the questions which was asked was why in the first chapter, I named Paul with 'Clearwater' instead of 'Lahote'. That was just a mistake, lol- I'm a fast typer. But I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm going to keep in mind to try and make chapters longer. Again thank you so much for the reviews and likes, and be sure to check out my original account on here 'NephilimKyla', where I have two other fanfictions on_ The Mortal Instruments _series. And please keep reviewing and give me your thoughts; it means the world. Much love :)_**

 **TWO**

* * *

"Hey! Wake up, Missy!" Erica had been clicking her fingers in my face for the past five minutes. I'd been out of it since the incident in the clearing Monday afternoon. That night as I attempted to fall asleep, my thoughts were rewinding the images of huge grizzleys. Pointless, I know, since I didn't essentially see anything in the clearing. But I felt it- there was something there.

* * *

We were now sitting in _Cafe Port,_ until we got set for the bonfire later tonight. This week at school had flown by, and Paul had not appeared all week, making me less silent than usual;

I was really hopeful Paul would be at the party.

"I am awake," I defended, sipping my milkshake.

"No you're not. You're too busy moping about a certain hottie." Erica threw a napkin at me, snickering at the embarrassment evident on my face.

"Shut up." I grumble, tossing the napkin right back.

"Honestly, Camryn, I don't know why you haven't asked him out already. It's not like he's unavailable- he's not known for being a guy to prance around from girl to girl," Erica swirls a straw through her smoothie, her hand tucked under her chin, "And besides- you're both sweet as sugar."

I smile at that. I wasn't a conceited individual, but I wasn't a wicked person at all. And Paul constantly had a lopsided grin on his face, always polite and generous.

 _Oh god, here I go again._

"He'd never go for me," Frowning into my glass, I avoid Erica's gaze, "Just think about it: we've never had a general conversation with each other, he's most likely never looked in my direction and, let's be honest, he probably doesn't even know my name."

"Well," Erica feigns amusement at my outburst, "Don't forget the part of your awkward social skills."

Grumbling to myself, I push my milkshake aside, suddenly not thirsty.

"I'm joking, Cam," Erica takes my hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, "Just promise me, if Paul is at the bonfire tonight- talk to him. Meet and greet, I don't care, as long as you _say_ something."

Her wide, black eyes beg me to compromise with her, and she's going to make me cave.

What if I do comply with her wishes? Me, Camryn Kota, actually gaining the courage to make conversation with Paul Lahote?

I'll end up having a cardiac arrest.

Nonetheless, we wouldn't be leaving this café until I agreed.

"Okay. Okay, fine, I'll do it."

Erica's smile stretches across her cheeks, displaying her perfectly positioned teeth.

"Do you realize how happy you just made me?" Taking a giant slurp from her smoothie, her smile grows even wider, if possible.

I roll my eyes, "Yeah, I know."

For the rest of the afternoon we shop in Port Angeles, which Erica insisted that I buy a new outfit for tonight.

"But I've got tons of stuff in my closet which I've rarely worn. Honestly, Erica, I'll just wear my skinny jeans and one of my shirts." Giving a huff, I drape a skimpy halter-neck back on its hanger, which Erica had slyly placed in my basket. Not under any circumstances, would I ever wear that. It didn't help much with my figure: I had stick thin arms, contrasting my hips which flared out and accentuated my much apparent curves: fat actually.

And my height of 5'4 did not help with my stumpy legs, which were the reason I always b-lined for black skinny jeans and shorts to give the illusion of thin limbs.

My physique was abnormal and uncoordinated at the least.

Though my eyes couldn't help but envy Erica's figure. She was taller than me, standing at 5'6 with a willowy posture paired with dark hair from her native heritage. Unlike me, Erica had to be feminine and pristine, having an un-chipped manicure, eyebrows her main focal point, and heels Louboutins would die for.

"I'm begging you, Erica, please don't make me wear something which makes my non-existent boobs be the center of attention. I'd rather not be a laughing stock." I flippantly hold my praying hands in front of my face, making her roll her eyes heavenward.

"Don't sweat it. I've already compromised with you enough today. Get what you want,"

I go to shout with joy but Erica holds a pointed finger.

" _But_ , you're showing some leg. Like a lot of leg. Paul needs to see your legs."

My relieved sigh turns into a grimace.

I am not ready for this.

"But Paul doesn't need to see my stumpy legs!"

* * *

"And. . . done!" With a last swipe of the eye-shadow brush Erica steps back, and I open my eyes, feeling the slight heaviness from the fake eyelashes.

I look up at Erica who is putting her makeup cosmetics back in her purse, then turning attention back to her art piece.

"So? Go and have a look!" Erica prances over to the other side of my room and grabs the handle mirror from my desk.

"I swear to God almighty, I better not look like a clown." I protest, taking the mirror out of her hand and aligning it in front of my face.

"What do you think?" Erica steps behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders and her head next to mine so I can see her reflection in the mirror.

"I-I love it." And I did. No sarcasm whatsoever. I rarely wore makeup, and when I did, it was minimal product as possible. Erica had taken the wheel with this one, slick liquid eyeliner covering both my eyelids coupling a blended palette of smoky eye shadow and modest fake eyelashes- not too long. Although she didn't use any facial product- my skin was bare without any break out or pimples.

"Really? I tried to be subtle; I know how you are. But I knew the smoky eye would look great-"

"ERICA," Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, I silenced her with a tight squeeze. "Erica, I love it. I feel amazing."

Erica's cheeks reddened and she grinned, "So you should."

It took us at least ten minutes to find a parking spot, and by the time we had walked onto the bay the party was in full swing. I scrunched my nose up at the sight that everyone had a bottle of bud in their hand, and cigarette stubs which littered the ground. I noticed there was a bunch of Forks High School students; a few I recognized from town.

"Come on, I see Trina and a few others over there." Erica points, and I grab hold of my camera strap in my hand as my heart sped up. Parties really weren't my thing.

For the next two hours we stand around one of the five bonfire pits. Erica shoved a bottle of something in my hand not long ago, taking tender sips now and then as she made most of the conversation with others in the group.

"Hey, you." We both turn our heads and freeze as Embry Call and a two more guys from the 'La Push Crew'; Quil and Jared I believe.

My heart sunk. There was no sign of Paul.

It didn't take long until Embry and Erica were all over each other, the sounds of smooches constant .

 _Kill me now._

"Hey, Erica I'm-" I stop, knowing deep down she wouldn't be able to hear over the music, voices and the growing flames only meters away from us.

I glance at Erica one more time before trudging away through the sand, slipping my camera cord round my neck. I headed right, to where the cliffs surfaced from the water and the forest joined the bay area, the moon a dominant silver crescent in the black sky. The temperature seemed to maturely drop now I was away from the bonfire and i shivered a little, rubbing my arms up and down my bare arms.

It took a good 10 minute journey to climb up the hillside to the cliff tops near the forest, but as I sat down on a bolder, the view took my breath away. From here I could see all of the La Push beach and the billowing flames of the bonfires, the smoke dispersing into the sky.

I sighed as I closed my eyes, relishing the sound of the waves lapping up on the shore. I can't imagine leaving this for college. There's something a bustling city doesn't have compared to small towns. The serenity I think. Though I could hear the party goers from here the atmosphere held a certain calmness.

I stood, stretching my now now cramping legs. I was quite proud of myself really. I may of not stayed for the entire duration of the party, but I had a drink, which I believed what was the cause of the small buzz I was feeling right now.

I hummed happily slipping my camera up and adjusting the view finder ...

Until I tripped.

Until the ground fell before my feet, and I was falling fast off the cliff, and in those seconds I realized that I was meters away from my death, and yet ironically in a place of somewhere I loved.

It wasn't until I hit the water's surface, I felt a hot and hard body wrap around mine ...


End file.
